Sky Without The Sun
by Lucy H
Summary: [Holby City] Ric takes Diane home.


Sky Without The Sun

-this is set towards the end of Seasons In The Sun, where Ric and Diane are in the office and she's crying. It's just a one part fic-

I feel like a song without the words

_A man without a soul_

_A bird without its wings_

_A heart without a home_

_I feel like a knight without a sword_

_The sky without the sun_

_Because you are the one_

He hugged her awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He was so used to seeing her being calm and controlled, whatever happened. She had become accustomed to hiding her feelings, and he had learnt to deal with that Diane. The one who never told him how she felt, unless it had all piled up on her. As it had now.

It had all piled up on her, and he had offered her a way out, a way of breaking down by herself, staying at home and not needing to see anyone. But as usual, she had over-estimated herself, had assumed that she could handle it, she could deal with it by pushing it out of her mind, and she was finding that she couldn't. She couldn't, and she needed someone there for her. And, as usual, she had chosen Ric. He was the person that she had known for the longest time, the one link with her past, and the one person whom she felt that she could trust. 

He didn't feel that he had the right to be there, to be comforting her; he had no part in her grief. But he was the only one who was around for her any more. He was the only one who was there right now, the only one who held her in his arms, the only one she wanted to comfort her. Maybe if things had been different, maybe she would have chosen someone else, maybe she would have preferred Steve to be there, or even Jess, who had at least been closer to Steve. But he was there, and she had broken down in front of him like she never would have in front of anyone else. He was the one person who was allowed to see this, see her being less than perfect. And he needed to make it all better for her.

"Shh," he whispered. "Come on, Diane, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault. It's okay, sweetie. It'll be okay," he murmured into her hair, unsure of whether he was telling the truth, but wanting desperately to alleviate her pain.

He would have given anything to be able to console her in the way she wanted; to be able to tell her it was all a nightmare, to tell her that Steve was lying in the bed where she had just left Declan, alive, and not blaming her in any way. To be able to tell her that she had never been pregnant, that she had never sat in that cold corridor waiting, that she had never sat on the hard table in gynaecology, just wanting to be rid of anything that could change her life, wanting to put her life back together, but succeeding in worsening the situation.

_I feel like a ship beneath the waves_

_A child that lost its way_

_A door without a key_

_A face without a name_

_I feel like a breath without the air_

_And every day's the same_

_Since you've gone away_

He waited until the sound of her sobs had quietened, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head gently. "I'm going to take you home," he told her, as she leant against his shoulder, her cheeks wet and her eyes tearful. More tears were threatening to fall, but she still wanted to be strong, she wanted to cope now. She had broken down, now she could pick up the pieces and carry on.

"I don't need…" 

"You do." 

He said no more, but simply helped her sit down. "I'm going to take you home," he repeated. "You're going home, you're going to take a day or two off, and you're going to call me if you _ever_ feel the need to cry like that again. I mean it." He spoke sternly, but the squeeze of her hand was friendly, and she understood that he cared. 

She couldn't quite thank him; she felt that gratitude wasn't enough here. The fact that he had stayed, he had been there for her, when any other man would have run. He was her best friend, the one she trusted about all others. And she would have expected any friend to stick around. Because friends are friends no matter what. But the other relationship she had with Ric, that of the ex-girlfriend, was more complicated. She had an inkling that not all exes would have been so supportive. Not all exes would have been there for her when she found out she was pregnant with another man's child, when she grieved for another boyfriend, when she grieved for her child.

But he wasn't just another ex. He truly cared for her. 

_I've gotta have a reason to wake up in the morning_

_You used to be the one that put a smile on my face_

_There are no words that could describe how I miss you_

_And how I miss you every day_

He went to fetch her bag and coat, leaving her sitting in the office. He didn't want to be long, didn't want her to believe that she had been forgotten or abandoned. He would never do that do her; he never wanted her to feel alone, especially not now. As he walked quickly to the locker room, he passed Ed, his face tear-stained, and he remembered what Kath had told him. The baby wasn't going to live. He would have stopped to offer his condolences, but the young woman with the tear-filled eyes was crying out for his attention more than the young registrar, staring into the space where his dreams had once been.

Within a few minutes, Ric had returned to Diane, and had helped her into her coat. Her eyes were still red and her face was wet with the tears that had fallen, but she was quiet now, slightly embarrassed that Ric had seen her at her worst. She need not have worried, however. He gently put an arm around her, holding onto her as she walked somewhat unsteadily, finding it hard to see through tear-blurred eyes.

"I'll take you home, see you into bed, and then I'll go, is that alright?" he asked, not wanting to overstep the mark in any way. She was dealing with this in her way, and, however much he disagreed with her way, he knew that he had to respect her wishes. In all honesty, he had no right invading her personal grief, and she could very easily turn away now. And he couldn't let her do that.

"See me into bed?" she repeated. "Are you trying to take advantage of me, Ric?" 

There was a hint of a smile in her voice, although it hadn't reached her mouth, let alone her eyes. But it was a start, he thought, optimistically. He saw the shock in her eyes that she was able to joke about something, and the immediate feeling of guilt that she could forget the depression so quickly, the feeling that Ric would think she felt less than she did. But he also saw the need to play along with her façade, and the need to treat her as though nothing was wrong, the need for normality.

"Take advantage of you?" he repeated lightly. "Oh, come on, you know you want me really."

An involuntary smile touched the corners of her mouth, and he kissed her hair gently. Maybe he wasn't doing very well, but he only wanted to help her. To make her feel better. To love her in the way he believed she should be.

_And I'm never gonna leave your side_

_And I'm never gonna leave your side again_

_I'm still holding on girl_

_I won't let you go_

_Cos when I'm lying in your arms_

_I know I'm home_

There had been so many times when he had wanted to tell her how he felt. So many times when he might have done, if only they hadn't been interrupted, if only she had been single, if he had been single, if only they had both been emotionally stable, if it had been the right time. It never had, and so he had never told her. He had wanted to tell her when she left him. He had wanted to call out to her, to beg her to stay because he loved her and couldn't imagine living without her. But pride had kept him quiet, pride and the look of fear in her eyes. 

He had wanted to tell her after that, every day for years, he had wanted to pick up the phone, and ask her to come back to him, to tell her that it would be different this time, that nothing would ever go wrong, that he would never let anything bad happen to her again. But he had known that she would never listen.

When she came back, when she agreed to work with him, he had wanted to tell her then. He had wanted to say that they could start over, that maybe, just maybe, they could forget about yesterday and live for tomorrow instead. But he had been committed to another woman.

When his relationship with Sam ended, he had wanted to tell her then. He had wanted to tell her why it had ended; that he had been unable to think of spending the rest of his life with a woman who wasn't Diane Lloyd. But he had known that she would never take him seriously; she would believe that it was simply the musings of a man wanting desperately to be in a relationship again.

When she had started going out with Danny, he had wanted to tell her then. He had wanted to tell her that he couldn't stand seeing her with someone else, that it was breaking his heart to see her and Danny together, that she wasn't suited to Danny, that she would be better off with him. But she had seemed happy.

When Danny had cheated on her with Lisa, then he had wanted to tell her. He had wanted to tell her that she deserved better, that any man who really loved her would never hurt her, that he would never hurt her. But he had known that any relationship starting then would only be to hurt Danny. And he only wanted to be with her if she truly loved him.

At Christmas, he had wanted to tell her. He had wanted to tell her that he wanted to spend Christmas with her, that she need not be lonely. But Christmas had been overshadowed with Kath's wedding and Terry's illness. And he knew that, after seeing Kath and Terry's tragic love story, she would be reluctant to get involved with anyone.

On Valentine's Day, he had asked her out. He had wanted so badly to tell her then, there had been no reason why he shouldn't. He wanted to tell her that he could never stop thinking about her, that he loved her. But, just as he had been about to, her attention had been caught by Lisa and Danny arguing. And, by the time he was ready to tell her again, she had already left.

As he watched her lying in bed, her eyes still tearful, her hand still clinging to his, he began to wonder whether this perhaps was the time.

_They tell me that a man can lose his mind_

_By living in the pain_

_Recalling times gone by_

_And crying in the rain_

_You know I've wasted half the time_

_And I'm on my knees again_

_Until you come to me_

"Stay," she whispered, as her hair fanned over the pillow and cascaded across the sheets. He was at the door, almost gone, and she knew that this was her last chance. He turned instantly, and sat down on the side of the bed.

"Thank you," she replied, softly. "I need… I need you to be here. Just for a little while." 

She didn't want to beg him to stay with her, to hold her until she fell asleep, to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Because if she did, she didn't know whether they were her true feelings, or grief, masquerading as passion, affection, love, any other feeling that might cause her to want Ric to kiss her goodnight. And he knew that.

He didn't know whether it was he whom she needed, or simply anyone, just to be there, to listen to her tearful confession of guilt, to forgive her when she had done no wrong, to sympathise when he had no idea how she felt. But he was there and he was doing the best that he could. And when the quiet voice came to a halt, when she had said all that she could say, when she had spilled out all of her feelings, she simply looked at him, wanting him to tell her what to do next, how to carry on when all that she had ever believed lay in tatters.

And he didn't know what to say to her. He had always been able to comfort people before, when all they were suffering was grief. But she was grieving, she was feeling guilty, she was drowning in the feelings that she had tried to push back for so long. And he had no idea how that would feel, and had no idea how to help her through it.

But she never knew that. From the steady stream of chatter that flowed from his lips, she believed that he knew it all. And that was what he wanted. He wanted her to believe that he could help her. So he talked to her, about anything and everything, just trying to restore some normalcy to the situation. He had known her long enough to know that her way of dealing with hardship was to take it in her stride, and for others to let her get on with it. So he was letting her. 

He told her stories about Jess when she was younger, about how well Leo was doing in med school, how a friend of theirs from times gone by was applying for a job as consultant anaesthetist at Holby, and avoided all mention of Steve, of babies, of Chrissie, and of his feelings for her.

_I gotta have a reason to wake up in the morning_

_You used to be the one that put a smile on my face_

_There are no words that could describe how I miss you_

_And how I miss you every day_

Ric stopped talking as he saw that her eyes were closing slowly. He gently pulled the blanket closer over her. He smoothed her hair back from her face, wishing that he could stay with her all night, wishing that he could hold her and tell her that it would all be okay, that he would never leave her…  

"God, I love you," he murmured to the sleeping woman. He kissed her forehead gently and left. Now wasn't the time to say anything.

_And I'm never gonna leave your side_

_And I'm never gonna leave your side again_

_I'm still holding on girl_

_I won't let you go_

_I lay my head against your heart_

_And I know I'm home_

**----**

**Wow, how terrible was that?**

Oh, and I always forget… the song is Never Gonna Leave Your Side, by Daniel Beddingfield, and it's one of the loveliest songs EVER. I've been meaning to write something to it for ages now.


End file.
